


One Last Chance To Climb The Hill

by GirlDressedInBlack



Series: One Last Chance [4]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/F, Masturbation, Sex, Simm!Master as of chapter 4
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-01
Updated: 2017-09-22
Packaged: 2018-07-28 15:45:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7647079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GirlDressedInBlack/pseuds/GirlDressedInBlack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of drabbles about the more *ahem* adult side of Florence and her Mistress' relationship. Spin-off of 'One Last Chance To Be Good' but it isn't vital that you read that at all and you can ignore this as canon to that if you don't like it. MissyxOC</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Drabble 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this comes between chapters 3 and 4 of One Last Chance To Be Good although you don't necessarily have to read it to get this.

I grasp her hand and am surprised by the coldness as her fingers wrap firmly around my wrist. Her blue eyes flash, a mad fire burning into me for the mere second our gazes connect. All the blood in my body rushes to my cheeks- or at least it feels like it- as I realise that she is not just mad but maddeningly attractive.

Sure, maybe not in the conventional way with sweet smiles and blonde hair but definitely in _my_ way.

She is as brilliant as if the quickness of mind- which I'm sure she has- is not swaddled inside her head but draped around her shoulders like a mantle. Sharp cheekbones sculpt her face into something definitely dangerous and cruelly thin lips curve into a smile which has nothing pleasant about it

"I'll be waiting next week, Mistress." I let go and wave, my body defying the wishes of my mind and heart, "Right here." The door closes. She disappears and I am left with her image imprinted on my mind.

I finish walking home.

I think I eat dinner and all of the preparatory work preceding going to bed but I can't quite recall.

In bed I lie, trying to not rub at my wrists but failing futilely. My lips pull upwards again as I remember her name.

"Mistress." A ghost of a whisper which parts my lips. I bring my bruised arms to my face, seeing the purpled skin easily despite the low light level.

Ever so gently I push against the marks, sighing even as I wince.

"Couldn't even have fallen for a human girl." My own words barely register to my own ears and I chuckle, pressing down harder. A huff of breath makes its way through clenched teeth and I laugh at myself.

In my mind I conjure up a replica.

Her touch almost feels substantial as I trace my own cold hands over my breasts, down the delicate sides of my rib cage, across the soft flesh of my stomach.

The fake sits atop me, teeth nipping at my neck as I tangle my hands in her hair- free of pins because the detail isn't something I really care to focus on right now. I arch like a wanton, her cool skin unyielding against my own. Fingers loop around my wrists again, catching them easily and pulling them over my head. Her nails dig into my already damaged skin. I cry out.

My mouth remains shut despite my inner pleasures, my breathing carefully steadied after years of practise thinking about other beautiful people though no man or woman can seem to match the her that exists in my mind right now.

Another hand would yank my head backwards by the hair, fisting it together and putting my neck at a painful angle. She would look down then- malevolent- proud of what she has done, of the smears of warm blood on my chest and throat. Her ice eyes dance with a cruel hunger and I would ache for her touch, her kiss, her teeth, her anything.

Then she would speak, her thighs either side of my head as my neck cramps up;

"You're mine, pet." And I would be hers and hers alone as she bends over me, those thin lips brushing my ear. My arms would lie limp above my head and I would be broken beneath her.

Her folds would be pressed insistently against my face and I would do as I was told despite my inexperience as cool hands soothe my throat even though the fingers tighten around it. I gasp for air, her damp heat disallowing me a single breath. My head begins to hurt, my chest spasming as my brain screams for oxygen.

My weak hands try to free me and my own short nails scratch at the pale skin of her stomach and thighs desperately. She doesn't allow it, smiling down at me cruelly as even that begins to blur out and spin.

"That's it- cry for me." Her voices croons and I didn't realise I was crying but I am and my arms fall back against the bed as I lie there limply, surrendering to the unconsciousness which eats away at me.

I think she comes- then I can breathe again. Something wet slides against my cheek and I lie shuddering on the bed.

In my real bed my hands delve between my thighs, easily slipping through curls and past satin folds.

Her ice cold fingers caress the soft skin of my hip and the heat still burns inside of me, the lack of oxygen making me drunk.

Without preparation they thrust into me, stretching me wide. Her damp breath passes over my face as she watches my pained expression.

"Oh, don't you enjoy this pet?" A particularly cruel drag of her nails against my walls. I hiccup as she grins maliciously.

"I think you do." Another hard thrust which makes me yelp. Thin lips at my ear.

" _I think you do._ " Hissing. Those lips on mine. Powerless.

I let out a small gasp and roll over, closing my heated thighs together.

Maybe now I can sleep?

… Six days and nineteen hours later…

Her ship appears and as soon as I am aboard it I can't stop myself from talking.

"Bad week, a lot more interesting now. Do you know how many people I've had to make up an excuse for about these bruises?" I hold my still bruised wrists up for her to see the marks she's already made on me.

"Lots, ended up going with rope burn. They wanted it to be true anyway so all I had to do was keep a straight face and try and hide it as much as possible." And she smiles that psychotic, menacing smile that I've been yearning for all week. Slowly I smile back, trying to hide most of my joy at seeing her.

I wish it was rope burn too…


	2. Drabble 2

Florence awakens to a strange, cold sensation brushing over her shoulder.

"You know, you humans look a lot more delicate when you're sleeping- funny really considering the things you lot dream about." The snide voice prompts the human to lift her head enough to glare at the Time Lord irritatedly.

"Mistress. I'm tired and really don't care what you saw in my dreams." They'd done a lot of running today and although some supposedly superior beings don't feel the need to sleep *cough* Time Lords *cough* Florence did.

Very much so.

"Well, considering they involved us I thought you would be." The human snorts, bringing her blankets tightly around her and determinedly closing her eyes.

"Yes- I do happen to have _also_ experienced those dreams- funny that. No- I do not want to talk about them now." Unfortunately Time Lords didn't seem to have a sense of propriety.

Or maybe it was just the Mistress. The Doctor hadn't seemed so annoying- only a bit grumpy and socially inept.

And so the mad woman winds her arms around Florence's blanket clad form.

"What a coincidence! I'm not interested in the talking." The thoroughly unamused human lies awkwardly pulled against the Time Lady.

"I'm tired and you're a Time Lady- your whole planet doesn't do the whole _sex_ thing- I've read your library." A hand brushes insistently at the fabric covering the human's thigh.

"Yes, yes- that would be a problem if I was still on Gallifrey, well done for pointing that out. Good point there." Cool breath drifts past Florence's ear as the Mistress rambles on.

"If I had ever actually cared about what those stuck-up arseholes thought. The Doctor and I have always been rebels." Florence says nothing, "And your dreams are quite intriguing- I didn't know humans could-"

"And you have a ship which travels in time and space- you can go find a prostitute or something, I'm tired."

"But I have a perfectly serviceable human right here." Said 'perfectly serviceable' human manages to worm an arm out of the blanket straightjacket to pinch at the bridge of her nose.

"That's not flattering." The Mistress pulls herself closer.

"I know." Her hand moves to the edge of the blanket. Florence quickly bats it away.

"I don't know anything about that kind of stuff anyway." The Time Lady smoothes the fabric over the human's stomach.

"Well, your mind seems to think you do." Cold lips brush Florence's ear.

"My mind is filled with hormones and chemicals- of course it would. It seems that even I cannot rise above the 'reproductive frenzy' of my species." The Mistress snorts inelegantly.

"Then why are you even arguing?" With a rather frustrated sigh the human answers.

"Because I'm tired and going to sleep."

"No. You're not." The Time Lady squeezes her tighter but she does not answer.

"Miss Wright." Florence ignores her.

"Miss Wright." Florence ignores her.

"Miss Wright." Florence ignores her.

"Miss Florence Elizabeth Wright!" The girl shifts slightly.

Then ignores her.

"Florence." Lazily the human swats at the Time Lady with her free hand. Missy grabs it, holding it in a position which would surely be uncomfortable.

Florence ignores her, allowing her arm to go limp.

"Maybe I will go find a prostitute." The Mistress huffs irritatedly, dropping the human's arm and unwinding herself from her.

"Have fun."

Missy sticks her tongue out at Florence's blanket covered back.

"I will."

The Mistress doesn't go to see a night walker but when the human asks her at breakfast (or in Missy's case another cup of tea) the next morning she claims that she did just to see the look on her face.

Disappointingly it's only mild curiosity.

Even more disappointing is the fact that the mad woman can't stop her eyes from slipping down the column of the human's neck or watching the way her fingers wind around the handle of her own teacup, the other hand cupping it just to feel the warmth seep into them.

Now the Mistress was sure she was beyond even her own special kind of madness- why would a Time Lady of her calibre ever wish to be a teacup.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha, they were going to have sex but then my brain was like 'haha- nope! That won't work.' So it didn't.


	3. Drabble 3

Florence thinks about it a lot- that first time the Mistress pretended to kill her.

She can feel the slide of metal through her hair, its slow caress down her cheek, down her neck, down her chest. It had settled, a ring around her heart.

The Mistress had been pressed so close to her that she could feel every flighty breath, every thud of her twin hearts. Her nails had pressed insistently into the skin on her shoulder, keeping Florence pinned like a butterfly.

Even then she had felt the shudder of desire which should in no way coincide with death threats but somehow just _did_ when it was the Mistress.

Then the Mistress had spoke, lips so close that when she smiled that oh-so-cruel smile they just brushed her ear. She swore that at that point her heart was beating fast enough to mimic the two in the Mistress' chest.

"Oh, she isn't just a girl- she knew what the risks were when she stepped aboard my T.A.R.D.I.S. Didn't you Miss Wright?" The Mistress had spoke those words and Florence could barely think to reply, could barely feel over the noise of the Mistress against her and the hot coil of lust in her stomach.

The words had been patronising- Florence had known this even then- and had anyone else said them she would have slapped them. She had wanted to tell the Mistress she wasn't a girl, to make her say her name- her full name- as a sigh. Instead she managed an,

"I _thought_ so." Even if she isn't sure what she had ever thought other than of the Mistress.

The Mistress had removed her hand from her shoulder for an aching moment and when it landed Florence had wanted to tilt her head to the side so that cool hand could soothe the lump in her throat.

She had looked down at the clunky gun nestled beneath her left breast and thought about how odd it looked in the Mistress' hands- how unfitting.

" _See!_ Miss Wright is really quite clever you see." But the Mistress had stepped away and bereft of her Florence could not have moved, "And that was quite useful for me."

The memory always stops there, seemingly entirely disjointed from the rest of their adventure, but Florence clings to it still- relives it in her dreams, when the Mistress pulls the gambit again and again, even when she eventually dies, the Mistress opposite her seeming to scream across the distance.

But today she just talks about it.

The Mistress is curled up on the plush seat opposite when Florence broaches the subject.

"You know," she begins slowly, "that when you pretended to kill me that first time I thought that you could do it for real and I would be happy." The Mistress looks at her and Florence's throat catches just at the sight of her eyes.

She says nothing.

For years they stare at each other, the moment fixed to a shining gold in Florence's mind.

Then-

The Mistress stands.

"I could kill you now." Her voice is steady.

"Yes, you could." Instead she kisses her.

Florence sighs as the Mistress rakes her nails across her scalp, pulling out hair pins and knocking the hat aside. The Mistress' hair brushes against her neck, already loose.

"Mistress," The Mistress allows Florence to move from her, planting her lips instead beneath her human's ear as she regains her breath.

The Time Lady smoothes her tongue against Florence's skin, releasing breathy sighs from the human as they lean back in the chair together. Gently Florence brings her arms around the Mistress' neck, curling her fingers into thick hair as the Mistress sets fireworks across her skin.

Her skin burns as the Mistress pushes the flimsy fabric from her shoulders, unbuttoning her top and sliding it down her arms, from her wrists. Florence swears then that this is the most sexy the Gallifreyan could ever be, caring enough for her not to damage her clothes.

Cool fingers tenderly stroke across Florence's stomach which feels like it's fluttering in response. The human groans, tipping her head back and sliding her own hands to the hem of the Mistress' top.

She pulls it up and the Mistress takes over, removing it and dropping it behind them. The Time Lady unclasps her bra too, letting that slip from her shoulders before wrapping her arms around Florence to do the same to her.

Florence presses her palms against the Mistress' chest and the woman hums, pushing herself closer to the warmth of her human. The Mistress sighs as Florence brushes her thumbs over peaked nipples.

The Gallifreyan straightens, straddled against her human's lap, hands sliding down to rest on her sharp hipbones. Florence stares up at her, adoringly, lips parted as she breathes in and out.

The Mistress removes the human's jeans with as much care as she did her top, her hands rolling down aching thighs and knobbly ankles. Florence does the same for her, relishing the chance to feel the Mistress' body with her own.

Florence smiles as the Mistress presses a palm between her legs, arching up wantonly. The human pulls her in close, kisses her again, tongue pressing as deep as it can, wanting only her.

"You're beautiful." She says between breaths as they pry themselves apart to take off the last pieces of clothing. And she means it- the Mistress can tell.

Gently she eases a finger inside her human who huffs and contains a whole laugh inside the sound. Florence slides her palm from the Mistress' shoulder down her chest to her stomach, smoothing over the Time Lady's bellybutton with her thumb, before letting her hand dip between the woman's thighs to feel the dampness between them.

Florence rocks against the Mistress' hand as she adds a finger, pressing her own thumb against the Gallifreyan's button.

"Florence," The Mistress sighs breathily, eyes fluttering closed. Florence slips her finger into the Mistress. The coolness briefly surprises her and she smiles fondly at her Time Lady, easing another finger into the relative chill of her lover.

The Mistress adds another finger and Florence gasps, feeling the warmth in her belly increase with every thrust of the woman's cold fingers inside her.

She hastens her own efforts and the Gallifreyan tightens around her, joining their lips again.

The Mistress presses her thumb insistently against Florence's clit and tips her over the precipice.

The human swallows, cheeks flushed as she slides her fingers home again, the coolness enveloping them as the Time Lady's breath fans against her neck from where she's dropped her head beside her.

Then the Mistress' eyes snap open and she wraps her arms around her human, smiling more gently than Florence ever felt possible.

"You're beautiful too." And Florence doesn't even need to tell her Mistress she loves her because all they could ever need to say to locked in the gaze between blue eyes and blue.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Mistress meets up with the Master while out shopping for spare parts. The two hit it off and relocate to the closest bedroom on the Tardis which just so happens to be in use.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is weird even by my standards.

The Mistress pauses in the doorway and goes to close the door.

"I'm sorry- I forgot that one was in use." She apologises awkwardly to her past self, "Companions seem to get tired a lot more quickly than we do." The Time Lady says, her nose crinkling sheepishly.

The Master steps forwards, hand coming to cover hers on the door knob.

"We have a companion?" He asks, intrigued. The Mistress dips her head, attempting once again to close the door.

"Yes. We do. And right now I think it would be in our best interests to let her sleep and get on with finding another room." The Master holds the door open easily, side stepping the Mistress and walking towards the bed, heedless of the noise of his shoes against the floor. The Time Lady follows him in nervously, knowing the penchant for cruelty she has at times.

She leaves the door open.

Florence lays on the bed, back to them, clad only in a thin linen shirt and her knickers. Her hair is swept back into a low ponytail- clearly more for convenience than anything else and wisps drift in the soft breeze that blows through the room. The human's neck is tanned, darkened by their last few adventures with slight redness which Missy knows is deeper across her shoulders, just out of sight underneath the white shirt. The pink tone is echoed across the top of her thighs, just visible despite how she is turned away, one leg folded across the other. One arm is slung out across the pillow beside her, long fingers at the end of her limp wrist just curled underneath the edge. The other is folded into her chest, fist closed but not clenched.

"She's not woken up." The Mistress says softly, "She's a light sleeper. She must be tired." Warmth infuses her voice without her willing it and the Master looks up from his observation of the sleeping human.

"She's human." He says, seeming a little disgusted.

"She's human." Missy confirms.

He goes back to his analysis and the human's chest rises and falls gently, unaware of the high possibility of danger she is in.

The Master raises a hand and the Mistress steps forwards to stop him except instead of striking her he carefully places two fingers at her temple. Her companion doesn't show any signs of pain or waking.

"She's dreaming of laying on a beach." He says, "With you." The Time Lady stands beside him, looking down at her companion.

"It's relaxing, isn't it." She responds, recognising her own tone of voice.

"We become very fond of her, don't we?" He asks, fingers brushing down her face, over her cheekbone.

In her sleep the human lays her hand over his, dragging it to lay between her breasts. Her heart beats steadily and she huffs out a contented breath. The Master watches, his expression softening.

"Yes. We do." She says solemnly.

The Time Lord sits on the edge of the bed, oddly entranced by this human who will become one of his firmest allies. The human shuffles back until her back is supported by his thigh, his hand still in her grasp. She lets out another sigh, smiling.

"She reminds me of the Doctor." He says, "When we were both little. You remember when he grew his hair out long and we ran through the red fields, don't you?" The Mistress nods, smiling at the memory.

"He was always feminine." She says, chuckling quietly. The Master's gaze snaps from the girl to his future regeneration, eyes suspicious and the beginnings of a smile on his lips.

"It's his shirt- isn't it?" He asks. 

The Time Lady just smirks in reply.

"You acquire odd things over the years." She says simply, looking proud of herself, "The Tardis must have given it to her at some point- she likes practical clothing to sleep in." She explains, knowing that she hadn't herself but unwilling to admit how much she likes the sight of her companion dressed like that.

The Master carefully takes his hand from the sleeping human and she frowns. He brushes hair back from her face, tucking it behind her ear and she sniffs, eyelids fluttering open.

"Mistress?" She asks. The human rolls her head, her neck resting on top of the Master's hand where is had fallen. She looks at him in confusion, perplexed but not entirely panicked by the sudden appearance of a goateed man in her bedroom. Her lips move against each other and the Master feels her reach out mentally.

Intrigued by such an impossible connection from a human- even if she was to be his- he allows it without lashing out. 

There is a whisper and a sensation of grass underfoot and her mind retreats just as languidly.

"You are the one the Mistress used to be." She says, certainly. The human notices the Mistress standing behind him and sits up, suddenly alert.

"Why are you both here in my room?" The girl asks, voice clear. Her brows furrow and the Master smirks.

"Well we were going to have sex and this room was the closest to the Tardis doors." He says matter-of-factly. The girl licks her lips, knees coming up.

"Well don't let me stop you- I'm just going to go and find somewhere to drink and hopefully forgot that the Mistress- Master-  _you_ \- are pretty much masturbating in my room." She states calmly, shuffling around the Master, still seated on the side on the bed and standing. 

She gets half way to the door before the Mistress calls out.

"In that? Don't you think the locals will raise an eyebrow or five?" She says, raising one of her own. The girl looks down then nods.

"Ah- yes. Excuse me a sec." The human says, heading to the wardrobe instead. She opens the door and feels an arm curl around her waist, another against the back of her hand, grip insistent.

"Has the Mistress ever told you that you look like the Doctor in that?" Comes a low voice far too close to her ear. Cool breath fans over her neck and she freezes still, back prickling as she breathes in and out, trying to ignore the desire which had shot through her as soon as the concept of sex had been uttered by this Time Lord who was undoubtedly the same as her Time Lady. 

She can't stop the slight gasping quality her breathing takes on as he grasps at her, holding tightly enough that it's just on the edge of becoming painful. He is hard against her back. She can feel him inside her mind too, slightly rougher than the Mistress, obviously less used to being careful. He is cold against her, even cooler than the Mistress and taller than she is too.

"Because you do." He breathes out again, lips just touching her neck in what can only be a smirk. She can't say anything, fears her voice trembling as much as she is in his arms because she knows that he can feel that slight tremor going through her where no human could and she just knows that this Master is even more predatory than the Mistress.

She does not fear him winning. She knows that he will. Still something instinctual in her is screaming in terror at the way he grips her possessively. If it weren't for her certainty that the Mistress would stop him from doing anything too awful and the lust almost making her feel sick as it weighs heavy in her stomach she would be scared of him. 

He tightens his hold a little, arm digging into the soft flesh of her stomach and fingers curling around her own.

She releases the door, gasping softly at the pain just creeping in, eyes blowing wide. It smacks back its original position with a bang which makes her jump in his grasp, adrenaline sending a chill through her. 

He laughs and in her heightened state she whimpers, tears pricking at her eyes. 

"Hush," He murmurs against her, the word stretching out forever as he lets their hands drop, stroking his own up her arm. It stops, heavy over her shoulder as he cups her breast, smoothing his thumb over the linen fabric between the two of them. She cries out a little, lost in sensation.

"Hush," He whispers again, voice low, "Your Master and Mistress are here to keep you safe." His presence curls around her mind, ensnaring her. She goes limp in his arms, even her tears falling against her skin overwhelming.

His grips softens.

"Human?" He says urgently, voice gentler. Her eyes stare ahead unseeing, lips parted softly. She moans not-quite-words.

The Mistress pads towards them, stepping in front of them both and carefully lifting the human's chin to look into her eyes.

"It's okay- just a little overwhelmed." The Time Lady soothes them both, "Her name is Florence." She adds afterwards for the Master. 

He retreats from her mind a little and the human shudders, breathing out raggedly. He supports her, adjusting his hold slightly. Her eyes refocus a little.

She isn't quite sure when the Mistress appeared before her, eyebrows creased in worry and frowning.

"You there?" Says the Time Lady. It takes Florence a while to realise the question is addressed to her.

She gives out a short gasp, head still reeling.

"Mm." She manages to get out, lips buzzing oddly.

"Good." The Mistress says, bringing a hand up to hold her cheek. The human leans into the chilled fingers, nuzzling against them as the Time Lady smiles worriedly.

"And are you okay with everything? We can stop if you like." She asks, concern still creasing her brows. The girl breathes out, closing her eyes. The Mistress holds on a little more firmly.

"Florence? You still here?" She asks gently. Florence nods, eyelids fluttering.

"Careful." She gets through numb lips. The girl opens her eyes, "Please." She says, malleable between the two of them. 

"Are you sure you want this?" Asks the Time Lord behind her, his arms keeping her upright.

"Want this." She echoes, head knocking back against his chest lightly. Her cheeks shine and her chest heaves, heart pounding away inside her fragile skin as she breathes in through her nose.

"Nervous." She admits, eyes drifting away from both of them. Her pulse mimics the word. Ner-vous. Ner-vous. Ner-vous.

Lips press beneath her ear, arms slipping around her waist and the Master. Florence feels the more familiar pressure of the Mistress' mind against hers, both past and present versions wrapping themselves around her. She moans softly, aching with want.

"Good." They whisper in stereo and the human closes her eyes, surrendering herself to the two of them.

The Mistress is gentle, fingers tangling into her hair as she pulls their lips together while the Master's fingers dig into Florence, pining her to him. The Time lady pulls away, stroking the human's face. She steps back and away from them and confusion flares through Florence's mind briefly.

"Shh." Hushes the Master, one arm gripping her around the waist, the other cradling her face. She doesn't realise that she is crying until the Master thumbs away the drops crawling across her skin.

"You're mine." He says, voice low in her ear as he steps backwards, away from the wardrobe. Her legs don't hold her and she almost collapses as he slips his arms from her. He scoops her up before she can fall, one arm sliding beneath her knees, the other around her chest. Her back is pressed firmly to his chest and her thighs are pressed firmly against her own chest. 

The Mistress watches them, sat in a chair next to the bookcase.

The Master sets the human back down on her bed, rolling her on to her side. She stares at the wall, body limp. The Time Lord pulls her onto her back and she allows it, falling into almost the same position she had been sleeping in.

Her eyes are heavy lidded as the Master tilts her head towards him. He releases her and she swallows, head rocking back against the covers. She licks her lips, sighing a little.

"Good girl." He murmurs, kneeling over her, "Good girl." He says again, taking her chin in his hand and crushing his lips against hers. 

Florence's mind swims as his tongue fills her mouth, claiming it as his own. She can't breathe properly and she tries to move from him, hands pushing at his head futilely as she fights back. He bites at her tongue in warning, his own wrapping around it. His grip on her chin tightens and he presses down on her exposed throat with the back of his hand as she tries to move her head to the side. She panics, nails clawing at his face and hand as he bears down on her. The girl pushes at his face in desperation, mind spinning. He pulls away and she gasps dizzily, choking on spit and the slight coppery taste of blood. 

His hand cups her cheek and he smiles at her. His teeth graze the skin below her eye, tongue swiping across her cheek as he presses his lips there. She keeps breathing heavily, eyes wide as he kisses softly down her jaw. He takes her bottom lip between his teeth, biting down just enough to hurt. The Master licks into her mouth, running his tongue along the roof of it before withdrawing and placing a softer, open mouthed kiss against her lips. 

He lays the palm of his hand over her throat again and Florence swallows before he presses lightly, thumb stroking across her collarbone and out of sight beneath the white linen.

Like this he feels every ragged inhale and exhale in his fingers.

Like this he holds every beat of her pulse in his hand.

He smiles and she licks her lips again, panting still with wet eyes. 

"You like this, don't you?" He says teasingly, the Mistress' eyes trained on them both. Florence huffs softly in reply.

"Good girl." He says, lengthening the words. He sits against her hips, careful not to put too much weight on her as he slides a hand over the jutting bone, thumb pressing into the hollow. He rests his legs either side of her as he slips his hand up, over the delicate skin of her stomach and the suggestion of her rib cage to cup her breast. The fabric rides up with it and he can just see the quivering of the skin over her heart beneath it. 

He removes his other hand from her throat, slipping that over her other breast and rubbing his thumb in circles over her nipple. It pebbles under the digit and she arcs up against him, crying out softly. He kneads the other softly, knowing how easy it is to hurt even Time Ladies with too rough a grasp and knowing it would be doubly as easy with someone as fragile and small as his human. 

The Master presses his lips against her thrumming skin, tasting the slight saltiness of sweat as she drops her head to the side.

"I want you to say my name." He says, lips millimetres from her, still fondling her breasts.

"Master!" She cries out immediately, breath huffing out afterwards. His eyes meet hers and he chuckles at the desperation on her face.

"I'll say it again-" She swallows, wetting her lips, "- if you like." She finishes, eyes dark. He smirks, not giving an answer and instead squeezing just hard enough to draw a pained breath from her. He bites against the skin over her heart hard enough to draw blood and the girl winces, barely making a sound. He licks at the wound, pressing his lips against it after and bites down more softly below her right breast, sucking at the skin there.

Florence swallows, taking a shaky breath and his hands slide down to rest against her rib cage, pining her firmly to the bed. The delicate bones rise and fall beneath his fingers.

"You're naturally quiet." He says, distracting her from the blood oozing slowly from the bite mark on her chest. Her eyes meet his again and they are silent for a moment aside from the sound of their breathing.

He removes a hand, shifting backwards to sit astride her thighs and pressing his fingers against her underwear which slides, already soaked. Her head drops back with a heavy exhale and he runs his hand down to cup her, grinding the palm of his hand against the wet fabric.

"Look at me." He orders and she lifts her head, cheeks a deep red, to meet his gaze. The Master smirks, rubbing his free hand up and down her trembling thigh.

"Fuck." She breathes out softly, voice shuddering. The Time Lord's lips curl upwards.

"Be noisy for me." He says, bending forwards so far that his chest presses down on her and she can feel him, hard against her thigh even through his jeans. The Time Lord plucks up her hands, pining them firmly each side of her head. He rests with his lips against her ear.

"Florence." He hisses and the girl cries out, wrapping her legs around him. He bites at her neck and she yelps, pulling away from him as he nips and kisses down her neck, leaving the occasional spot of red gleaming against her skin. 

She doesn't move her hands when he releases them, instead writhing beneath him as he leaves marks on her, whining and gasping dramatically the whole time. 

The human's fingers curl into fists as he bites down at the tender skin above the hollow of her hip and she lets out a sob. Her hips rise into his hands and he presses her back into the bed forcefully, slipping one hand beneath her underwear and pressing at the bundle of nerves. Florence hisses, biting at her lip as he holds her down with that one hand and emitting noises somewhere between gasping and crying when he moves the finger pressed against her clit. His other hand slides her knickers off, discarding them over the side of the bed and going to work on his own clothes.

The human cries out, again and again as he rubs at her. The Master manages to remove his jacket and shirt as she quivers beneath him. He starts working at his belt when she shifts, pushing herself up and trying to close her thighs, hands shoving his away clumsily. 

"Wait- stop!" She cries out, turning herself away from him, whole body shaking. He looks up, pulling his hand away. She stares back, thighs pressed together tightly, her fingers shivering against the bed covers.

"Too much." She says, voice cracking. Tears are scattered across her cheeks and she trembles. 

The Time Lord watches her, unsure.

Carefully he crawls over, wrapping his arms around the human and pulling her into his chest. She curls into him, her skin hot and damp against his. He runs a thumb over the back of her wrist, gripped lightly in his hand. He never knew a human to run so warm. The human calms relatively quickly, panting in his arms.

"Do you want to stop?" He asks gently, lips against the skin of her neck. He is as gentle as when she was sleeping, folding her up in his limbs, entranced by the knowledge that she was only his. She shakes her head softly.

"Just- be careful. Us humans- we're sensitive." Florence murmurs, lips still shuddering slightly. 

He kisses her tenderly and she clings to him, her body pressing as close to him as she can. He pulls her in tightly, rolling them over again to press his lips down her neck, her chest and her stomach again, teeth absent in his caution. He softly opens her thighs again, running his thumb against the join between her leg and her hip. Gently he parts her labia and she exhales softly, quiet again. 

The Master slips a finger into her and she huffs. Carefully he presses up to his knuckles and she just breathes evenly, accepting a second finger easily and the third with a sigh. He avoids her clit this time, slowly stroking in and out as he undoes his belt. Her hand takes his and he curls his fingers into her, making her groan. She grips his hand hard and holds him there, panting.

The Time Lord manages to work his trousers off one-handed and pulls his pants off roughly, finally palming his erection. 

He sighs, watching Florence's flushed face as she presses his fingers inside her and strokes himself. She flutters around him, making small noises as she moves his hand.

"Good girl." He croons and her gaze snaps to him, pupils almost filling her irises, "Good girl." He repeats, stretching each sound. The human gasps, nostrils flaring. He says it again and again, watching his companion swear softly with each repetition. Soon her movements begin to grow more frantic and her words less understandable and he takes his hand from her.

She pants raggedly, complaining in short whines. He wraps his slick fingers around his penis, coating himself in her. Her eyes flicker down and there's a shadow of apprehension in her eyes for a second before she is sitting up with a hand on each of his hips as she kisses him. Her fingers curl into his skin as he presses her back hard into the bed, still stroking himself up and down his length. 

She pulls his head down to her neck and he bites down softly. The human sighs in response and the Master sits back, just looking at her splayed out in front of him. She stares back, lips parted.

Without taking his eyes from her he takes her right foot in his hand. Gently he tugs her towards him, her foot raised above his head. Her other leg folds and he rests a hand on her knee as he runs his hand down the other leg, settling her calf against his shoulder. She brings the other up to match and smiles at him slightly.

Carefully he lifts her with one hand, the other taking hold of his dick again. He parts her labia again, pressing the tip of his penis against her entrance. She watches his face and he leans forwards, gently pressing inside. She swallows, eyes fluttering closed as he takes hold of her hips, thumbs rubbing against the smooth skin there.

He thrusts himself in entirely and Florence moans, shifting her hips against his. 

He fucks her as gently as he can, watching his human writhe under him, softly murmuring his name under her breath and arching to meet him. She quakes around him and he laughs as she lets out a short cry, cheeks flushed.

"Faster." She sighs, thumbs running over her pebbled nipples as he slides out. The Master obeys, gripping tightly to her hips and picking up the pace. 

"Ah!" Florence cries out as their skin slaps together particularly hard. She arcs up, eyes closed and the Time Lord takes the opportunity to roll his hips, causing her to gasp again, lips wet.

"Fuck!" She utters and he laughs, feeling her quiver around him. He knows she can't last much longer.

"We already are." He says loudly over the sounds of their exertion. Florence's fist hits against the bed in protest of his literalness and he smiles fondly, breathing heavily himself.

He thrusts in and out several more times, enjoying the sound of their skin colliding and the view of her face, lips parting as she cries out again and again. She finally tightens around him with a gasp, eyes squeezed shut. He keeps moving, feeling her tremble against him as she finishes. 

She pants as he fucks her to his own completion and his hands drop from her hips, letting them slip to the bed. He lays beside her and hears another soft gasp behind him.

Florence rests a hand against her stomach, curling into him and the bed dips opposite him as the Mistress, stripped bare too, joins them, slipping an arm around their girl's waist and the other around the back of the Master's head. The Time Lady pulls it to hers, resting their foreheads together and smiles softly at him, eyes the palest blue he has seen.

"Ours." She says possessively, pressing a kiss to his lips.

Together they gently pull the Doctor's linen shirt back down over Florence's body.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this while drunk because I’m needy as fuck and distracting dreams need to have some kind of outlet so I can focus on my other writing which doesn’t have sex in, haha! Apologies for mistakes and I hope you like it ;)

Florence pads with bare feet across the carpet.

It’s thick against her soles, each loop registered against the thickened skin as she spreads her weight, walking softly to the Mistress’ bedside.

The older woman- well Time Lady to be more precise- is still asleep, lips parted slightly and a furrow between her brows.

Her lips move, pursing, and the dip between her brow deepens.

Florence breathes out heavily, eyelids lowering as her gaze flickers over the Gallifreyan.

She lays still, still in the clothes from their latest adventure. They’re damaged; a little singed and with spots of mud. The skirt is missing entirely, pooled on the floor just beside the bed. Her hair is loose from its usual updo. There’s a few strands connected to the corner of the woman’s mouth.

The human brushes them aside, pressing open lips to the other woman’s skin and huffing out a warm breath.

Her hands find their way to the Mistress’ shoulders as she noses at the Time Lady’s neck, kissing at her double pulse. She lays her tongue over it, tasting the residual sweat and grime from escaping the prison cell they’d been trapped in.

The Mistress moves.

“Hmm- Florence?” She asks, eyes just open enough to indicate she’d woken up.

Florence lays her forearms flat to the Time Lady’s body, eyes almost closed as she rests her cheek against the Mistress’, nuzzling at the cool softness of the woman.

“Yes?” She whispers, gasping softly as she presses herself into the narrow space between her Mistress’ body and the edge of the bed.

The Time Lady winds her arms around the woman lazily.

“Can’t sleep?” She asks, sleepy herself.

The human breathes out again, leg slipping over the Mistress’ and tightening, pulling her closer to the precipice before the floor.

“No.” Florence sighs.

Her fingers are gentle spots of warmth curling into the Gallifreyan’s hair and the small of her back.

“Just want you.” She whispers, turning her lips again to the Mistress’ neck and sucking lightly on the chilled skin.

The human holds the mad woman close, wrapped tightly around her.

“Mm. I can tell.” Says the woman relaxedly, sliding her own fingers into the mess of her pet’s hair and tugging enough that  Florence gasps gently, eyelids fluttering as she tilts her head backwards fully, almost hanging from the edge of the bed.

The Mistress bares her teeth against the younger woman’s skin, dragging them against her neck and smirking at the breaths catching in the human’s throat as she scrapes her nails against her scalp. Her other hand strokes down the back of Florence’s thigh as she lays limp for her, arms curled around the Mistress and irises wide behind almost closed eyelids.

“Need you.” Florence whispers, fingers digging into the Mistress’ clothes. Her lips are parted and she can’t see for desire as she breathes in and out, focusing on the sensation of the Mistress’ touch.

Her cheeks are slightly warm from the admission, lips parted in a small smile as the ghost of a laugh passes through them.

“Mine.” The Mistress hisses softly, watching her companion’s face as she runs her hands over heated skin.

She shuffles forwards, pushing them both towards the edge of falling.

The human tenses up, pressing her body even closer to the Mistress and letting out a full laugh this time, thrilled by her own trust as she perches just by her hold on the Mistress and the Mistress’ hold on her.

Much movement by either of them will send them both falling to the floor.

Florence breathes.

“I want you.” She hums into the skin of the Time Lady’s neck.

“Mm.” Is the short reply as the Mistress looks down at the woman almost fused against her, fingers digging into the flesh above her hip and gripping at her shoulder blade.

Florence smooths her hands over the Gallifreyan’s thin blouse, thumbs pressing into all the tiny tears to feel the cool skin beneath as she moves her fingers to find the buttons, gently undoing each one as she arches back just a little, leg securely wrapped around one of the Mistress’ own.

She slips her hands over the bare skin, skirting the lace over the woman’s breasts as she pushes the fabric down the Mistress’ arms and off.

“Florence.” The woman moans softly, gaze holding the human’s eyes.

The human watches the Time Lady’s face, awed at the subtlety of expression as she gently strokes and kneads at the Mistress’ skin, contrasting body temperatures only making the sensations more intense.

She licks her lips, unsure of the urge before she bows to it.

“Koschei.” She whispers reverently, knowing the information was something that the other woman kept locked away in her memories.

The Mistress goes still, breath caught and hearts each beating beneath the human’s palms.

Her human.

The Time Lady pulls her back onto the bed, laying heavily against her, legs entangled with legs and breasts pressed together as she sucks at Florence’s neck, her thigh pressed against the heat of the younger woman’s core.

“Ah!” Florence cries out a little, mouth open as the blood rushes around her body, heart beat speeding at the Time Lady’s passion. There’s heat, heavy between her hips as she chokes out fragments of words.

Lips and teeth pull equally at her soul and skin as the Mistress presses her lips to her.

One moment there’s a tongue against hers and fingers at the base of her neck, kneading, and the next there’s pressure between her thighs and inside her and she clings to the Time Lady, arching up against her for more contact as her own hands stumble, overwhelmed, down the woman’s back and over her thigh.

She presses into the Mistress, still cool to the touch despite her own need and moans, the noise captured by the Time Lady. 

Florence runs her trembling thumb against the woman’s clit and slides two fingers easily in and out.

She gasps still as the woman fucks her, the sound shadowed by the Mistress’ rasping breath as they clutch one another.

The Mistress’ skin is soft and yielding as they move together, tight to the other as if they were the opposing poles of two magnets. Florence gives easily, surrendering herself to the other woman who is equally hers.

Then it’s over too soon and finally and they lay curled together, minds fogged with heady bliss as the human curls into her Mistress’ chest, breath dampening her skin.

“My pet.” The Mistress murmurs, eyes closed and arms wrapped possessively and without doubt around her companion.

“Mine.” Echoes Florence, equally as certain with fingers splayed against the soft skin of the Mistress’ skin and wound into her hair.


End file.
